Chapter 124
Marguerite was totally caught off guard when she heard this.
She hadn’t yet told the news to Miley that she and Frederick were heading back to meet his folks, so she asked, “How’d you find out?”
Miley’s reaction was all over the top, with her voice going up and down like a rollercoaster ride.
“Come on, how could I not know? Did you forget what I do for a living? I’m a top–notch private detective! I’ve got clients lining up, begging me to score them an invite to the Winston family party. I reckon you’ll have to tag along with Frederick.”
Marguerite rubbed her temples, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
The last thing she wanted was to go back with Frederick and celebrate his father’s birthday. It was a sticky situation as she didn’t even know what role to play.
On top of that, she was carrying a stranger’s child and felt guilty as hell, thinking she had let Frederick down.
She even questioned herself whether she should be seen with him at such a formal event.
While she was deep in thought, Miley suddenly whipped out a stack of pictures from her pocket and slapped them into her hand with a stern look.
“What’s this?” Marguerite asked, looking puzzled.
“This, my dear, is the family tree of the Winstons. All investigated and ready for you.”
Marguerite was speechless.
She thought: Has she lost her marbles? Who the hell asked her to dig into the Winstons? I haven’t even decided if I should go back with Frederick!
Despite this, Marguerite was curious about the Winston family, so she took a closer look at the pictures.
The first picture was of Frederick’s father, an old–man nearing sixty with white hair, but still powerful. He looked remarkably like Frederick and his presence was intimidating.
Looking at his picture, Marguerite felt a twinge of fear,
She glanced at the note under the picture. “Powell Winston,” it read.
The second picture was of a woman named Lisette, about fifty or so. Marguerite thought she was Frederick’s mother.
But when she flipped to the next picture, there was another woman around the same age named Jocelyn.
“Since when do love children have inheritance rights?” Marguerite couldn’t believe it.
Feeling a bit down, Marguerite turned over the final picture, and surprisingly, it was blank.
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